


Not Quite A Happy Ending

by Pollymel



Category: Magids Series - Diana Wynne Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1631231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollymel/pseuds/Pollymel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem is there's never really an ending in real life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite A Happy Ending

**Author's Note:**

> This is based heavily on Deep Secret with only occasional reference to The Merlin Conspiracy.  
> Thank you to Bounce and Lynx who beta'd this, and thank you to Nirvana who panicked with me.
> 
> Written for amberite

 

 

**Rupert Venables**

_As nice as it was to have an Archeon Emperor who knew what he was doing and two Empire troop carriers and the discovery that the Intention had worked itself out, it was not all sorted. Not by any stretch of my hopeful imagination. These things never are._

Being a Magid often means you have to be flexible and quick on the uptake but after the events of the fall and rise of the Koryfos Empire not to mention PhantasmaCon I felt like every part of me had been beaten by a stick, physically, mentally, emotionally, man and Magid. Possibly by several large sticks wielded by very determined strong malicious men. After talking to my neighbour-who-was Koryfos I think I shut down a little, it seemed so climactic. I definitely felt that it should all be over.

There wasn't really time for that sort of complacency, of course. There was still work to do. There always is. As casually as whole groups of people were taking it, a goddess incarnation, deaths by Empire beam-gun and geas and Empire troop carriers in the middle of central Wantchester are not casual events on Nayward Earth. Even for a science-fiction and fantasy convention. Even if some people wanted them to be. It is all a little too dramatically Ayewards.

It was easier than it might otherwise have been to clear up afterwards, even with the sheer volume of people involved, because Will, Zinka and Simon were able to help twist the events. I'm fairly sure that Koryfos nudged things occasionally as well, he had partially spent a few millennia on Earth. I got the feeling that he had a bit of guilt about how things had turned out as the Empire collapsed. I know how that feels. Even with the help, it was bloody sweating complicated work. We wove stories from whole cloth, it felt like. Uninvolved Con-goers were convinced it was all part of a show, townsfolk were convinced of the same of the UFOs.

Those who were particularly involved were yet more hard work. Thurless's assistants, the grey cloaks and the knights were given a tangled view of some role playing game. Nick had some of the best ideas for that.

"Why don't you pretend it was a sword and sorcery fight with special effects?" he asked. "You could say your computer game company sponsored it." We'd been sitting around in the sparkling tropical garden of a lobby, Odile nodding blankly us from across the way.

"It was, in a way," Maree agreed, the sob in her voice getting stronger as she blinked sleepily. "If you can, can you convince them it was between Uncle Ted and Thurless? Everyone knows they hate each other."

I looked over at Zinka, who we considered our expert on the Con people, having given up on her holiday after talking to Koryfos. I'm sure he got the worst out of that deal somehow, dealing with both Zinka and Simon is probably unfair. She nodded slowly. "It would make the malice seem pretty standard," she agreed. "People will gossip about it, but Mallory will look pretty good in the end, everyone finds Thurless ridiculously overwraught."

I appreciated that, I think that the remaining members of the Mallory family, all three of them, had had enough for the moment.

Koryfos helped with that too, having Gramos and Jalelia's bodies incinerated on the carriers, and leaving us with a missing person report which we blurred as much as we could.

That left Gabrelisovic, Fisk, Punt and Thurless. We couldn't blur their experience even with the same sort of effort. They are all quite powerful, and quite damaged. I'm not entirely proud what we did there, but they really couldn't be left out there what they could do. Particularly Gabrelisovic. I don't think anyone could think of a better plan, but I'm not really ready to talk about that yet, it still makes me slightly squirmy.

After all of that, there was still the quacks, my old neighbour's house and Maree and reporting. None of that was as simple as it seemed either...

**From Maree Mallory's Babylon Directory, file one**

There are so many new things to do when you get a new computer. Rupert offered to continue cleaning out my old one but it would take so long I made him buy me a new one as a loaner while I wait. I might buy it off him if I somehow get another legacy or something. Besides, I needed something I can force to be compatible with Empire tech. Rupert being into computer stuff does come in handy sometimes.

I have spent a ridiculous amount of time playing with this one, even though part of the reason I wanted it was to continue this journal. It's not called the Thornlady directory any more, because I don't want to encourage her. Ick. I heard Maxim is healing well, but I know how those thorns get in deep. He's even talking about next year's PhantasmaCon which is obviously a sign of complete madness. Not that we can talk. Rupert and I have sort of agreed, between all the other agreements we've been having, that we would go next year anyway. He moaned a lot, but I think he secretly liked it. Rupert needs to get out more. Rupert needs a lot of things...

... and I think Nick is somehow fooled that this whole Magid thing is much more thrilling and exciting than it really is. This may be partially because he is fourteen, but I think it's also because he is so enormously egocentric, and also how Rupert is. Not that Rupert's selfish exactly, but he is so monumentally self-satisfied because he's all clever and handsome and rich and ...

... I'm pretty sure Nick is still trying to travel between worlds, not that he's telling us. I can see why, it's the most glorious thing, really.

Before I got carried away playing and complaining I was going to write about what I'm doing at the moment, because it's so complicated. I did decide I wanted to be a vet and that I wanted to be a Magid. I can be both, but I'm going to have to be really really busy and organised. I'm going to keep studying to be a vet and I'm going to have to concentrate. Fierce won't begin to cover it if Robbie or his silly bint Davina get in the way. I am determined.

Around that, I'm going to have Magid-lessons, which will be on weekends, mostly. For that I'm going over to the Empire and visiting Simon, which means staying with him and Zinka and they do seem _interesting_. Then around that I have to find time with Nick and my little fat Dad and with Rupert. I think I'm going to have to get a calendar and write everyone down like I'm the Queen and I'm graciously allowing them to have tea with me. What with assignments from university and Simon I'm not going to have time to breathe, let alone take care of the quacks, and I'm not sure that Rupert will be any good at it. He does seem to enjoy living alone and unencumbered.

I feel much better, but I think most of this has been me working around the fact that tomorrow I go back to university, convince them I'm serious about the Vet thing no matter how I acted before and then somehow face Robbie over some poor animal. It shouldn't seem as horrible as it does, but it is just terrifying. Babylon doesn't seem to make humiliation any better. What is the use of it anyway? Aside from curing cancer and stripping, that is.

**Rupert Venables continued**

_I do think that the Upper Room have an interesting view of what might be an easy time. I thought I might have a little time to clear up after the major messes, but I have still been very busy. Even after sorting out everything that happened in Wantchester, Earth alone is still hard work. It looks like the Middle East needs attention, but then it always does. I think I might talk to Koryfos about that. I wonder what the effect of the proliferation of nodes in that area does. It might explain a lot._

After the report to the Upper Room over the horrible disaster of my attempts to find the new Magid and the Empire collapsing and everything _I think it was only really the huge secret effort of getting all our reports back to Koryfos that kept me moving. The Upper Room have a way of asking the questions that make you feel naked and squirming and sometimes you don't want to think about those details with that much honesty. It was a while before I felt like my skin was all the way back on._

I have been keeping an eye on all of the would-be Magids left on Earth and they appear to be not necessarily enjoying themselves but content. Maree checks in on Gabrelisovic, whom Zinka and I convinced Simon to take back to the Empire. He really was too mad to leave here, where he might kill people who have any whiff of magic around them. He was too far gone to leave him anywhere without watching him. The Empire was probably not ideal, but the only other suggestion was some other violently science-ridden world Nayward. We were fairly sure that the effort of getting him there would tip him over the edge anyway. He is apparently convinced he's in some form of Hell, surrounded as he is by the protections of an Empire Mage equivalent of a lunatic asylum. Sometimes it feels like I've spent the last year collecting actions I feel guilty about. When I mentioned this to Simon he got all ruthless at me and said that I'm just too egotistical to believe that anything isn't my responsibility, which made Maree laugh and agree.

I've been very busily avoiding thinking about Stan, because he's gone again and it's like he died all over again without any of the messy body bits or paperwork. Certainly my collection of classical music is much more extensive than it was, but I can't seem to listen to any of it, so I'm listening to endless radio news, while chasing up details on who's doing what where on the West Bank and Iraq as well as chasing the quacks around the kitchen and worrying about where Maree is right now.

We wrote it all down, but I keep forgetting to look at the calendar and find myself staring at the wall or at the pond thinking about the fact that she's out there doing something with Simon or Robbie _and how is it that the pond needs cleaning again, and why are the quacks always inside my kitchen? This is not as helpful as one might think._

Despite the endless digging and weeding I have to do to care for the pond, I am enjoying living in my erstwhile neighbour's house. Aside from constantly thinking of it as Andrew's house and the suspicion that Mrs Gibbs and her daughter believe that we were possibly even stranger than they had thought, it is quite a nice house. I enjoy it in much the same way I enjoy my car, which only confirms Maree's accusations of hedonism. I should probably stop worrying about it and just enjoy the good times and the several sparkling bathrooms. My new computer room has to be seen to be believed, and which ever Gibbs is cleaning is never ever allowed in there.

**From Maree Mallory's Babylon Directory, file three**

I had an examination on sheep and goat ailments today and Rupert asked me to marry him again. I think he may be getting a bit annoyed about my answer.

"I don't understand why you don't want to!" he thundered. He seems to have given up being polite about his proposals. He does try, but I'm pretty sure he's been different sorts of furious constantly since we met.

"I have other things I'm doing right now," I said. I thought that I was being patient, but I was very tired from learning about all the hundreds of things that can go wrong with sheep and we had had this conversation several times before.

Rupert adjusted his glasses at me, glaring icily, which you would think he would know doesn't work. "I have a list of good reasons," he said thorough his gritted teeth.

"I've seen the list and I think it says a lot about you that you wrote that list and not all of it good," I said. "But I still don't want to get married." Rupert kept looking stubborn and had that more-prim-than-you look he always gets when he thinks he is right about something we were arguing about. That look always makes me want to do something terribly immature.

We were in the kitchen and therefore Lord and Lady Quack were underfoot, naturally. They were watching us with benevolent amused eyes, in the way that they always did when we were doing something that didn't involve them. They were mostly under my feet just then, because they were smart enough to avoid Rupert when he was in such a stomping mood. Somehow after all that I had been through today this seemed monumentally irritating and the whole argument a ridiculous waste of time.

"I have a list too," I snapped.

Rupert said "A list of what?"

"Of reasons. To begin with, I'm still very young and haven't even finished my Vet degree."

Rupert started to speak but I wouldn't let him. "And I don't want to even think about it at least until I finish. And then there's the Empire, which is complicated. You know how they are about bloodlines. I'm not going to have them think I'm planning anything by getting married to you while Koryfos is still picking up the pieces."

By this stage Rupert was listening to me, but I was on a roll and couldn't slow down. "Also, I think I'd feel obliged to spend more time here, and I still want to spend time with my little fat Dad and with Uncle Ted and Nick, and I just don't have time! And I don't see why we have to get married anyway, because I'm not going to change my mind and I haven't even met your mother." I ran down then, out of energy all over again.

Rupert sat down without answering me, which the quacks took as an invitation to sit on his feet. I couldn't really look at him because I had suddenly realised that it was all true, although I've been avoiding thinking about it. Rupert was silent for too long, which is utterly unlike him when he is angry, so eventually I had to stop staring at the floor and check on what he was doing.

Rupert finally said "I don't think I can argue with that list." The quacks chittered at each other, sounding like an avian Greek chorus of agreement.

I couldn't help smiling at him of course, tired and cranky as I was, and his so solemn face split into a gorgeous smile back. I think it's lucky that I'm as stubborn and bitchy as I am, because it really wouldn't be a good idea to marry him and it would be very easy to give in.

I am glad I'm not someone who gives in.

**Rupert Venables continued**

_I don't think I have ever met anyone as infuriating and obstinate as Maree Mallory. I am planning to ask her to marry me, possibly with added hobbits, at PhantasmaCon which isn't that far away. When she says no I'll ask again next year, and the year after. I think we need an anniversary tradition if we're not going to get married, and Maree does take an unholy glee in indignity._

As my mother is asking very gently about Christmas, I think I'll see if Maree wants to go if she can. If she can come I will get her to help to convince Simon to come home and bring Zinka. He deserves it.

First, though, I have to have a look at what I can do about the drought in North Africa as it's beginning to worry me again. I wonder what exactly 'slightly easier' means to the Upper Room?

 


End file.
